Beach
by UKHoneyB
Summary: The advertisement didn't lie, Rachel mused. Standing on the threshold, looking around, it did promise everything it said...even if the view to Del Oro Bay and the beach was only possible on a clear day, standing to the far left of the window, peering right and hoping that her neighbour didn't have their window open.


A/N: This is from the 100-prompts community on LiveJournal (table 30-A), and I may or may not be doing more. These all take place in my Redux-verse and some histories, plots, and comments may or may not make it into the fic proper.

**0.18 - Beach**

_ South Del Oro $400/month_

_ 1 bedroom apartment_

_ I bedroom, 1 bathroom, combined kitchen/dining room, efficient living space with 6x4 balcony, perfect for single professional (no students). Views to Del Oro Bay. Available on a six-month tenancy._

The advertisement didn't lie, Rachel mused. Standing on the threshold, looking around, it did promise everything it said...even if the view to Del Oro Bay and the beach was only possible on a clear day, standing to the far left of the window, peering right and hoping that her neighbour didn't have their window open.

The balcony was weather-worn and needed some work in order for her to be able to use it, let alone even think of letting other people use it.

The living room was certainly "efficient" with all possible space utilised, multitudes of shelving erected everywhere, expanding into the kitchen, in an attempt to make use of all that was available. When she'd first visited the shelves were piled high with the belongings of the previous occupier but were now empty and rather forlorn-looking.

The place itself wasn't anything stunning, but it was cheap for Del Oro, and still had good transport links down to the bay and downtown areas. The only other places of comparative cheapness were along the south bay, and while the real estate broker hadn't said anything, she'd gotten a very clear impression from his actions and after a cautious mention hadn't referred to it again.

Rachel cast another eye around the living room, taking a step into the apartment and letting the door close behind her. It seemed almost...empty, now, looking at it from the perspective of someone with very little brought along with them.

The shelves needed to go. Indeed, should be the first things to go.

Some space could be cleared in front of the balcony doors.

The kitchen was abnormally tiny, space there considered to be at quite a premium. Done well enough, the wall could be knocked out (if she could persuade the landlord) and extend the dining area into the living room, perhaps making a breakfast bar.

She shrugged off her backpack, letting it gently fall onto the floor beside the front door, and did a slow walk around the living room, taking note of angles and placement of items she couldn't move, and took into account items she could.

Semi-satisfied, she returned to the front door to pick up her bag and walked into the bedroom. Barely big enough to hold a bed, beside table (and accompanying lamp) and an upright wardrobe, it was nonetheless large enough for her needs. A large window showed an impressive (and boring) view of the mountain range, and the placement of it meant the late afternoon sun was streaming in. With a couple of steps and a quick snap of her wrist, the curtains were closed, reducing the intensity of light into the room.

With another couple of steps, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, bag at her feet, looking out through the bedroom door at her new apartment.

Rachel took a small, calming breath. She'd wanted this, _needed_ this, and in no situation was anxiety allowed. She reached down into her bag, retrieving the letter she'd received which had sent the whole process in motion. A letter from one "Jefferson Smith, CEO" of a company called N-Tek.

She'd initially ignored it, feigning interest when a representative spoke to her and blithely ignoring the information spoken, choosing to bin the papers given. The second visit, third, fourth, all went the same way, polite smiles and nods at the people while they were present, then choosing to completely blank out what they'd said the moment they parted.

That was probably about the only good thing of being the granddaughter of a very well-known multimillionaire, an old money family.

It was only when Jefferson Smith himself appeared and introduced himself that Rachel decided to allow a small sliver of curiosity. She listened to what he said, politely thanked him, and walked away from their meeting with a spark of curiosity. Within a couple of weeks she had information on N-Tek and a portion of its history, and a few days after that she sent an acceptance call to the company in California.

A speculative interview had led to a bit of a strange conversation and the signing of a contract which stipulated that nothing discussed from that point could be discussed outside of the room.

And then she was informed of N-Tek's true history and philosophy, and offered a job as an agent in the international counter-terrorism side, INTEC.

She accepted.

And the result was here now sitting on a bed in a strange apartment, almost five and a half thousand miles away from home.


End file.
